Teaching Teacher a Lesson

He'd been trying to dig up dirt on the bitch ever since that first F she'd scrawled on top of his blue book. The course was core, he needed it to graduate, and she'd had it in for him from day one. Where did she get off assigning papers in a course that was supposed to be a gut? He was convinced that she was being harder on him than the others. And he was also more and more convinced that something else was going on. Look how she dressed. Short skirts. Tight pants. Look at how she sat down and crossed her legs until he couldn't think of anything else. She was small and supple and fit. He could tell she worked out. He had to admit that he'd like to see her undressed, even if she was a bitch. Maybe just because she was one.

And she mocked him. Every time he tried to smart off she got in a one-liner that set the rest of the class off. There was no winning with her. She had it in for him and it was too late to drop. He'd let himself get so far behind that it was impossible to catch up. All the current material depended on what had gone before. Having blown off the early part of the class, he was in no position to understand what was happening now. He needed some dirt.

He'd begun to follow her a couple of weeks ago, on and off, just to see if there was anything at all that he could use. Then paydirt. The bitch smoked pot. Or at least she bought pot in a state where possession could get you years and years and years. One Thursday night he'd followed her to a quiet spot in the park, hiked silently behind her (keeping well to the shrubbery) and seen the goods change hands, all the while snapping pictures with his cell.

He couldn't remember a happier moment. This was too good to be true he gloated, retreating swiftly, so as not to be spotted, leaving the bitch to indulge in a joint with her buddy. This was perfect. As he reflected on just how perfect it was, he felt himself getting hard. Who said vengeance was a dish best served cold?

As he hoped, she headed back to her office after dark. This was a state commuter school. The building was for the most part deserted. Good. He climbed the stairs two at a time. Again just as he'd hoped, all the offices near hers were dark. They were alone.

He leaned on the doorframe. She looked up. A little red-eyed, but hiding it well.

"Sorry, Neil, these aren't my office hours. I'm just leaving."

"I don't think so."

He blocked the exit as she angrily tried to brush past.

"I have some research to show you. Investigative research. On the purchase of marijuana." He flipped open the cell phone, showing her his first photograph. "I hear the penalties are steep."

"Shit."

She took in his resentment and determination at a glance. Well, he'd never thought the bitch was stupid.

"What do you want?"

"Before you give me the A? I want to pull down your pants, lean you over that big desk, and fuck you until you scream for more." He pushed her back into the room and closed and locked the door behind him. The cell was tossed onto a shelf as he yanked her sweater up, tearing some of the buttons loose. His hands were inside her bra, squeezing and exploring before she had a chance to move. She writhed in his grasp, but he noticed she didn't yell. Right. She knew she had to give in.

"Look. We can work something out."

"I'm sure we can," he said pushing her down to her knees as he unzipped his fly. "I'm sure that once I'm finished fucking your face we can work out even more extra credit for you."

His cock throbbed with a life of its own as he pushed it into her mouth, holding her head steady, sinking into its moist, soft depths. He was rigid by now, loving the feel of her mouth, the feel of her on her knees getting fucked in the face. She was taking him all the way down. Maybe the bitch had practice. He could feel the muscles of her throat contract around the tip of his cock and almost came. Not yet. Too soon. He withdrew reluctantly and pulled her to her feet, spinning her around and leaning her face first over the desk. She was still arguing, but he ignored her.

She was wearing a tight skirt. A skirt within the confines of which he'd observed her ass in class, sitting in angry frustration and being shown up yet again. Wasn't this an improvement? He told her so.

"Never thought I'd have you bent over your desk with your butt the the air, did you?"

He pushed the tight skirt up over her ass and yanked the black silky panties down, ripping them halfway.

She writhed and squirmed beneath him, but he held her down easily with one hand in the small of her back. And he liked to watch that little ass writhe. He said that too. Just before he pulled her legs apart and slammed his cock into her slick pussy, making her yowl and buck, finally making her moan with pleasure as he pounded into her, shoving her face into the desk and lifting her feet off the floor with his thrusts, feeling himself fill her so completely that it felt as if he'd impaled her on his cock.

He stopped himself just short of coming, with greater difficulty this time, and leaned over her on the desk, panting.

"Tell me you want it up your ass."

"Fuck you," came the muffled voice from the desk, her face buried in her hair, surrounded by an avalanche of books.

"I'm gonna make you come while I fuck you up the ass. I'm gonna make sure you remember begging me to fuck that little fanny. You'll take it up the ass, once you've begged for it. And you'll love every second." He positioned the camera on the shelf. "And we'll record it for posterity. Just so I have something to remember you by."

Now she was pissed. But it was too late. He strummed her clit with one finger and moved another, wet from her cunt, up and into her asshole.

"Stop it," she hissed.

"Oh now.You like that. I can feel that little clit getting into it." There were two fingers up her ass now.

"You want a big old cock up there just filling up that little fanny, making you squeal. Yes you do. Say you want it."

She was wiggling now, and the wiggles no longer seemed to be efforts to escape.

"You want my big cock all the way up your ass, don't you?" He removed his fingers and positioned the tip of his cock at the crack of her ass. "Push on back, Professor Smith. Take it all. Tell me what you want."

Despite herself, she found that she was pushing back, feeling his cock slowly fill her up, feeling her muscles loosen. It felt so good. How could it feel good? His fingers continued to rub against her clit, blending the sensations until it was impossible to tell which was which.

"I want..."

"Say it."

"Fuck me."

"Fuck you where? Say it for the camera."

"Fuck me up the ass. Please. Oh god. Do it."She pushed her self back onto his cock, moaning, and he felt the indescribable tightness as her muscles contracted.

"Do you want me to give it to you? Do you?"

"Yes! Jesus. Please. I want it. I want it so bad."

With that, he lost all restraint, grinding into her as she squealed and bucked, feeling her clit practically explode as he pumped his orgasm so far up her ass it felt like it ought to be coming out of her mouth.

Collapsed over her on the desk, books hurled all over the floor, he whispered in her ear.